Oh, I am so tired.
No, change the so to soooooooooooooooooo. I think I had a second of sleep. But certainly a 5 minutes prayer won't make that much of a difference.
But it did. I was so tired that when the bell rang I can't even get up, all I could do was helplessly putting my hands over smarting ears. The sound was loud.
No wonder Alanna hated it so much.
"Reading and writing, first class." Keladry told me as we approached the doorway.
I wanted to say, 'But I know how to read and write!', like Alanna did, but decided it wasn't worth the breath. Besides, everyone would know when I get asked to demonstrate my skills. I have no intention of reading a long and boring poem, like Alanna had to on her first day because she knew how to read and write.
You see? It's good to follow in someone's footsteps. You won't be the one to fall into the ditches and holes, because your hero, or heroine, already stepped into them, and you won't have to make that mistake all over again.
Anyway, back to the topic.
I looked at the door marked in a silvery plate, 'Reading and Writing' in fancy letters. What are they called? Ah. Calligraphic term is 'Gothic Script', or something or rather. A bit time-consuming to read. Maybe I do have to learn how to read and write.
Read Gothic Script with the help of a computer, if there is one in the year 219 BC.
Write calligraphy with a feather dipped in ink.
Two things that are considered extra-curricular in the year 2001, the future, but two things that are considered normal for a noble to learn, here, in Tortall.
Anyway, I opened the door and peeked in.
Four rows of chairs formally arranged neatly, with feather, ink and pieces of parchment on each desk.
I shouldn't of have come.
This is like school, but worse.
The first class, and I'm already falling asleep. I walked with Kel to the next door. It read:
'Mathematics'.
Uh-oh.
After another torturing class of formal nobles' etiquette, it was a nice change to see the word 'War History' on the silvery plate hammered in the next door.
I might be saved from death after all. The classes must of have been arranged this way, so when all the pages are about to fall asleep, an interesting class comes and forces open your eyes.
I had liked history all my life, but learning Tortallan war history and knowing it is Sir Myles that is teaching us, history became ten times better.
No wonder some goodie-goodies at our school says they like a particular subject.
Am I considered a goodie-goodie now?
No, I hope not. Goodie-goodies will have to do all the chores. As if we don't have enough chores already.
Now I know why Alanna wanted to run off after two days. '...you are very hardy to have made it that far...', quoted from Myles.
The miserable bell rang again.
What?! A whole hour had been? I was so obsessed, I thought we had only just come in!
At least we get lunch. My stomach is roaring. We wake up at five o'clock, as my watch tells me. The time here is the same as New Zealand time.
My watch. What will I do when it runs out of batteries?
Maybe in the summer holidays I could go back to Tauranga and buy some stuff.
Anyway...
As I recall, the first class after lunch, it's swords!
Hooray for the marvellous page training that I could finally learn how to use a sword!
Um, lunch first.
*******************************************
Guess what. Everyone gets to have fun flapping a sword, but because I'm new, I get a whole year's training with a staff 'before you go near a sword!'.
I was furious. No swords for a year! No wonder Alanna wanted to quit.
No. Sorry, Alanna. Not quit, of course not.
Err, what word is suitable...Ah. She wanted to protest.
BY THE WAY! STOP GETTING OFF THE TOPIC!
Yes, yes, yes, Mistress Other-Side-Of-My-Mind.
Maybe becoming a knight isn't such an easy thing.
Harder than learning karate, but at least easier than Yamani training.
Next hour is Getting-Whacked-Around-By-A-Boy-With-The-Heaviest-Stick-In-The-World time.
My favourite.
No, no, no. I'm so sorry, Hakuin Seastone, for abusing your lesson topics. It's 'defence' time. ("Not meant to let people hit you, Alexandra!")
Oh, but I thought that's what you're here to learn, defence, and not letting people hit you! What's the point of learning it if you already knew how to do it in the first day?
(Oh well. Anders said to Kel once, "It is not your place to question what your masters want you to learn. Your place is to obey.")
Easier said than done, Sir Anders.
Grumpy old Ezeko shouted at me for the tiniest things like going out of line.
By a millimetre. (or a milli-inch, here)
("Be as stone." I really need Kel's teachings now.)
Finally, at 7pm, we're back to our chambers.
Not to play and have fun. To study and do homework. (16 different subjects, today. Kel told me sometimes it gets up to 30.)
I joined Kel's study group in Neal's chambers.
But I'm already asleep. While large and small bruises speckled my body, making it unable to function properly (like moving arms and legs), large and small bruises speckled my brain, making it unable to function properly (like working out 5 very hard mathematical problems).
And all this is just the first day.
How am I supposed to keep this up for 7 years, not mentioning that squire's work is more harder and have more extra chores? ( O, I just mentioned that. Just forget that I told you.)
Impossible.
("You know better than to say that word!")
Sorry.
But this is just torture.
("The idea is to train them, Wyldon, not kill them,")
I know so much quotes, don't I?
*******************************************
Ah.
Bed glorious bed,
Hot blankets and...
Hmph. I must be thinking at Oliver at the moment, aren't I?
Not now. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I still have training to continue.
*******************************************
"And who is this kid?" Someone grabbed me from behind.
I turned, to see a boy of about 13, with floppy brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. He was of medium build, with developing muscles and limbs. His clothes were so tidy, he must have spent hours on it. Hard pimples shot out of his face, turning him into a monster. He is ugly.
"And who are you, ugly monster?" I smartly replied.
"No one is to talk to me like that," He snarled. "And when I say that, you say 'yes, my lord,'."
"Yes, my lord Ugly Monster," I answered smugly, eyes never leaving his. "unless it is a crime to add two more words to your title."
He gasped with fury. Luckily, I was just in time for Roald to spot this and announcing, "As I remember, Edgar of Nond, you have duties in the stables."
Edgar glared at me, and stomped off.
Ho. I thought Roald was the shy one. He doesn't seem so shy.
Oh, well. Now I've made my bully, like Ralon or Malven or Joren of Stone Mountain. But someone with a bigger temper.
Nond. Isn't that Francis's fief as well?
Yes, it is.
No, change the so to soooooooooooooooooo. I think I had a second of sleep. But certainly a 5 minutes prayer won't make that much of a difference.
But it did. I was so tired that when the bell rang I can't even get up, all I could do was helplessly putting my hands over smarting ears. The sound was loud.
No wonder Alanna hated it so much.
"Reading and writing, first class." Keladry told me as we approached the doorway.
I wanted to say, 'But I know how to read and write!', like Alanna did, but decided it wasn't worth the breath. Besides, everyone would know when I get asked to demonstrate my skills. I have no intention of reading a long and boring poem, like Alanna had to on her first day because she knew how to read and write.
You see? It's good to follow in someone's footsteps. You won't be the one to fall into the ditches and holes, because your hero, or heroine, already stepped into them, and you won't have to make that mistake all over again.
Anyway, back to the topic.
I looked at the door marked in a silvery plate, 'Reading and Writing' in fancy letters. What are they called? Ah. Calligraphic term is 'Gothic Script', or something or rather. A bit time-consuming to read. Maybe I do have to learn how to read and write.
Read Gothic Script with the help of a computer, if there is one in the year 219 BC.
Write calligraphy with a feather dipped in ink.
Two things that are considered extra-curricular in the year 2001, the future, but two things that are considered normal for a noble to learn, here, in Tortall.
Anyway, I opened the door and peeked in.
Four rows of chairs formally arranged neatly, with feather, ink and pieces of parchment on each desk.
I shouldn't of have come.
This is like school, but worse.
The first class, and I'm already falling asleep. I walked with Kel to the next door. It read:
'Mathematics'.
Uh-oh.
After another torturing class of formal nobles' etiquette, it was a nice change to see the word 'War History' on the silvery plate hammered in the next door.
I might be saved from death after all. The classes must of have been arranged this way, so when all the pages are about to fall asleep, an interesting class comes and forces open your eyes.
I had liked history all my life, but learning Tortallan war history and knowing it is Sir Myles that is teaching us, history became ten times better.
No wonder some goodie-goodies at our school says they like a particular subject.
Am I considered a goodie-goodie now?
No, I hope not. Goodie-goodies will have to do all the chores. As if we don't have enough chores already.
Now I know why Alanna wanted to run off after two days. '...you are very hardy to have made it that far...', quoted from Myles.
The miserable bell rang again.
What?! A whole hour had been? I was so obsessed, I thought we had only just come in!
At least we get lunch. My stomach is roaring. We wake up at five o'clock, as my watch tells me. The time here is the same as New Zealand time.
My watch. What will I do when it runs out of batteries?
Maybe in the summer holidays I could go back to Tauranga and buy some stuff.
Anyway...
As I recall, the first class after lunch, it's swords!
Hooray for the marvellous page training that I could finally learn how to use a sword!
Um, lunch first.
*******************************************
Guess what. Everyone gets to have fun flapping a sword, but because I'm new, I get a whole year's training with a staff 'before you go near a sword!'.
I was furious. No swords for a year! No wonder Alanna wanted to quit.
No. Sorry, Alanna. Not quit, of course not.
Err, what word is suitable...Ah. She wanted to protest.
BY THE WAY! STOP GETTING OFF THE TOPIC!
Yes, yes, yes, Mistress Other-Side-Of-My-Mind.
Maybe becoming a knight isn't such an easy thing.
Harder than learning karate, but at least easier than Yamani training.
Next hour is Getting-Whacked-Around-By-A-Boy-With-The-Heaviest-Stick-In-The-World time.
My favourite.
No, no, no. I'm so sorry, Hakuin Seastone, for abusing your lesson topics. It's 'defence' time. ("Not meant to let people hit you, Alexandra!")
Oh, but I thought that's what you're here to learn, defence, and not letting people hit you! What's the point of learning it if you already knew how to do it in the first day?
(Oh well. Anders said to Kel once, "It is not your place to question what your masters want you to learn. Your place is to obey.")
Easier said than done, Sir Anders.
Grumpy old Ezeko shouted at me for the tiniest things like going out of line.
By a millimetre. (or a milli-inch, here)
("Be as stone." I really need Kel's teachings now.)
Finally, at 7pm, we're back to our chambers.
Not to play and have fun. To study and do homework. (16 different subjects, today. Kel told me sometimes it gets up to 30.)
I joined Kel's study group in Neal's chambers.
But I'm already asleep. While large and small bruises speckled my body, making it unable to function properly (like moving arms and legs), large and small bruises speckled my brain, making it unable to function properly (like working out 5 very hard mathematical problems).
And all this is just the first day.
How am I supposed to keep this up for 7 years, not mentioning that squire's work is more harder and have more extra chores? ( O, I just mentioned that. Just forget that I told you.)
Impossible.
("You know better than to say that word!")
Sorry.
But this is just torture.
("The idea is to train them, Wyldon, not kill them,")
I know so much quotes, don't I?
*******************************************
Ah.
Bed glorious bed,
Hot blankets and...
Hmph. I must be thinking at Oliver at the moment, aren't I?
Not now. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I still have training to continue.
*******************************************
"And who is this kid?" Someone grabbed me from behind.
I turned, to see a boy of about 13, with floppy brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. He was of medium build, with developing muscles and limbs. His clothes were so tidy, he must have spent hours on it. Hard pimples shot out of his face, turning him into a monster. He is ugly.
"And who are you, ugly monster?" I smartly replied.
"No one is to talk to me like that," He snarled. "And when I say that, you say 'yes, my lord,'."
"Yes, my lord Ugly Monster," I answered smugly, eyes never leaving his. "unless it is a crime to add two more words to your title."
He gasped with fury. Luckily, I was just in time for Roald to spot this and announcing, "As I remember, Edgar of Nond, you have duties in the stables."
Edgar glared at me, and stomped off.
Ho. I thought Roald was the shy one. He doesn't seem so shy.
Oh, well. Now I've made my bully, like Ralon or Malven or Joren of Stone Mountain. But someone with a bigger temper.
Nond. Isn't that Francis's fief as well?
Yes, it is.
